


Cherry Blossoms

by nightfalltwen



Series: The Abroad Saga [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-09
Updated: 2012-02-09
Packaged: 2017-10-30 21:19:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/336274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightfalltwen/pseuds/nightfalltwen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A chance meeting leads to taking chances.  Who knew it could work like this?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cherry Blossoms

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2007 **smutty_claus** exchange. Artistic licence abound. I took many liberties with some of the laws and regulations and culture of Japan. Written first in the Abroad Saga, but not chronologically first in the series

_Christmas Day - 2007_

For those who adore Christmas, and even some that don't, there's a moment on Christmas morning just before waking up where your stomach pinches in excitement. It's like your body knows from all the happy childhood memories and all the feasts and biscuits and presents, it knows that it's a special day. The twinge is what woke Susan that morning. Her eyelids fluttered open to an unfamiliar room with unfamiliar sunlight threading through the sheer curtains that fell gently across the window.

Stretching briefly, she rose from the bed and after a moment of searching, she found a dressing gown on the floor. It was far too big for her petite frame, but it would do for now. She threw it over her shoulders and went to the window, pulling back the filmy fabric.

Susan had never seen Tokyo from this angle or from this distance. The sprawling metropolis was a tangle of cement and high rises stretching out forever and possibly much more than that. She could make out the Tokyo Tower beyond the smog or low clouds. The window ran from floor to ceiling and Susan nudged her toes up against the cold glass, peering down as far as she could.

Twenty stories up? Perhaps.

Long arms wrapped around her shoulders and for a brief moment Susan shut her eyes against the angled cold of the city. His hair brushed her cheek as he dipped his head to nuzzle the junction between her neck and shoulder. There was a sigh. It escaped both their lips.

"Merry Christmas, my wife."

***

_Christmas Eve, Eve - 2007_

The Portkey office in Ueno was a messy gaggle of patrons, waiting for shoes, or paperclips or coffee mugs or whatever else might serve as magical transportation, to be distributed. Either that or, as Susan Bones was attempting to do, find out if there were any spaces left for England-bound travellers. The sweaty press of people was starting to get to her, this was worse than that one time she'd taken the London Underground to the Ministry to get her Apparition licence.

The last three months, Susan had been on assignment through the Department of Magical cooperation as one of the heads of security for the Magical Ambassador to Japan. The job had worn her ragged; Victor Ludley was not the most casual people to work for and now it was the twenty-third of December and he'd decided that some of his staff, Susan included, were dismissed for three days over Christmas.

"All in the spirit of the season," Susan muttered under her breath as she stepped up to the wicket and placed all her identification as well as her international papers on the counter.

"Sorry," said the clerk, reading over her application with his square framed specs perched on the tip of his nose. "All international travel fill up this morning. Japanese Wizarding Law states that . . ."

"I know what Japanese Wizarding Law states," Susan snapped and started stuffing her papers back into her satchel. The Japanese people baffled her. Especially the wizarding society. Forty years ago, someone decided that Japan was too populated for Wizards to travel safely by portkey. Someone could see and thus a cap had been placed on how many people could travel internationally from the country. She'd known it was too good to be true. Three days off? A chance to get home for Christmas? Right.

The clerk shuffled through his files. "I can offer wonderful shoe that will take you to Hokkaido."

Susan gave the young man with the square glasses an exasperated look and slung her satchel over her shoulder. "What on _earth_ am I going to do for Christmas on Hokkaido? I'm English. I wanted to go home to _England_. Never mind. Forget it."

Turning on her heel, Susan pushed through the thick crowd. There were people kissing their goodbyes and colourfully wrapped presents and it all made Susan sick inside because she was going to spend the holiday sitting in her little flat with no one but Stanley, the red Betta she'd gotten a few weeks ago. Normally, Susan loved Christmas. It was her absolute favourite holiday. The carols, the decorations, the baking, she loved it all.

"I guess this year I'll just have to hate Christmas," she grumbled and stuffed her hands into knitted gloves.

"Well don't say _that_ , Susan." A distinctly British voice spoke from behind.

Susan turned so fast that she nearly fell over. The voice came from a young man standing just outside the door of the office. He was tall, in that "one would have to stand on a stool to look him in the eye" kind of way. Or at least Susan would have to, as her height was on the smaller side. She'd only just barely scraped into the Hitwizard program after leaving school due to that one aspect of her physical features. But back to the young man. He wasn't initially recognisable, but he was familiar. She wracked her brain for a name, but came up blank. He certainly wasn't someone she'd been working with these past few months, but yet she _knew_ that she knew who he was.

"I'm sorry?" she managed after a moment of gawping at him.

"You probably don't remember me. It _has_ been almost ten years," he said with a half smile and flicked his longer fringe out of his eyes with a slight jerk of his head. "Terry Boot. I was in Ravenclaw the same. . ."

"Year we were at Hogwarts," finished Susan with a grin, one of the first she'd cracked in a few weeks. "Took me a moment there. God, I haven't seen . . . well we already said that, but it's been yonks. How have you been? What are you doing in Japan? How did you know it was me? Are you stuck here too?"

Terry placed his duffle on the ground between his feet and held out his hand, counting on his fingers. "Okay hang on. One, I've been doing very well. I'm a new resident at St. Mungo's in their Magical Malady ward, which leads to two, I'm here for a medical conference with regards to new spells for faster treatment." He paused for a moment and looked at her intently. " _You_ haven't changed in the slightest, so in answer to number three, as soon as I heard your voice and you saying you were from England and the fact that you're not blonde so you couldn't possibly be Hannah Abbott. . . I knew it was you. And just so you know, I'm keeping track of all these questions. You'll be grilled just as much."

Susan waited for him to continue, as there was one question left, but when he didn't, she tucked her hands into her pockets and raised her eyebrows at him, repeating herself. "Did you manage to get yourself stuck here for the holidays then?"

"You could say that, yes," he answered after a pause then flashed her a goofy grin that seemed to just fit so naturally on his face. "You can completely refuse if you want, since this chance meeting is not something that happens every day, but do you want to go grab a drink?"

***

"So after nearly six months of dating, Luna and I decided we were both too Aquarian for each other and amicably parted ways. Last I heard she was seeing some relation of Newt Scamander. . . grandson or nephew or something like that." Terry lifted the cup of green tea to his lips and shifted his long legs under his body. "Though I have to say, I've never looked at things the same way since. She was pretty good at thinking outside the box and I like to think she was the one who got me into being spontaneous."

Susan leaned on her elbow, propping her chin against the heel of her hand. The clock on the wall said they'd been here for nearly two and a half hours drinking tea and talking about the last ten years. Twilight was starting to bleed through the windows (as much as twilight could bleed though a window) and the servers were shuffling past their room with light twittering coughs to signal that the two of them had begun to overstay their welcome. 

Susan didn't want to leave. Terry's company was the one good thing to come out of this random "three days off for the holiday" and for the first time in a long time she felt like she was talking to a friend instead of just another co-worker that just so happened to speak the same language as her so communication was by default. The servers made another round past their table to ask if they needed another pot of tea. Susan shook her head.

They could take a hint.

"Are you doing anything tomorrow, Terry?" She asked after dropping enough yen to cover the drinks exactly. She wanted to leave a gratuity for having over extended the normal amount of time, but the officer in charge of cultural instructions when she'd first arrived made sure to insist that people did not tip in Japan.

"Well . . . I thought since I'm here now, I might as well have a look around the city a little bit and get some souvenirs for when I go home." Terry pulled on his long coat. The tassels of his scarf brushed against his knees and it was then that Susan noticed the colours. Blue and bronze. He still had, and used, his school scarf after all this time.

She smiled. "Would you mind company? I've got three days to myself and no chance to get back to England for Christmas."

***  
_Christmas Eve - 2007_

"I think it's time you gave in and admitted defeat, Terry," Susan poured him another sake and sat back on her feet, her knees digging into the mattress. "You've been trying to put together that robot dragon since we got back and I don't think you're any closer to finishing."

Terry peeked over the edge of the massive instruction sheet, all of which was written in Japanese. He pulled a face at her and reached a hand out to pick up the small cup. "It's a dinosaur, Susan. Not a dragon." He held up the box and danced it back and forth in front of her. "See. No wings. No fire breathing." Tossing the box aside, he tackled the multitude of plastic pieces in front of him. "I've never been thwarted by instructions before and I'm not about to start now. I can _do_ this."

They'd spent the day being tourists. Tackling various shrines and towers and shopping districts, eating sushi without knowing what exactly it was made of, talking of their pasts and things they'd like to do once they were financially able to. Susan's biggest wish was to buy herself a small cottage by the sea where she could go listen to the ocean every morning. Terry's was to continue to travel the world and see things he'd never seen before and do things he'd never done.

Susan flopped back on the large bed in his hotel room, staring at the ceiling fixture of the Tokyo Grand Hyatt. He was a lot closer to his goal than she was to hers, which was a bit disappointing as they were the same age. Obviously she was in the wrong profession. Overworked and underpaid.

So many things were flitting through her mind. Terry spoke of his friends and their families. This dragonsaur-thing was for the daughter of one of his housemates and three times he had mentioned how much Mandy's little girl was going to love it. How many of Susan's housemates had she kept in touch with? Hannah sent a yearly Christmas card. She saw Ernie at the Ministry every other day but both of them were so busy getting to their respective work that she didn't ever get a chance to really talk with him. Justin? Heaven knows what he was up to these days. Last she heard he was still in Canada.

Puffing out her cheeks, Susan frowned. So much for loyalty in Hufflepuffs. It seemed she'd forgotten how to do that these days.

"Okay. I know when I've met my match," Terry said after a long moment of staring at the pieces with his brow furrowed. Susan lifted her head and looked at him as he approached the bed and flopped down beside her, turning on his side to look at her, the edge of his mouth curving slightly higher on one side. "Shall we go out and prowl the streets again?"

***

"My mother insists that I'm too picky about the people I date and that I'll become a spinster just like my Auntie Amelia was," Susan shook her head with a wry smile and tucked her hands into her pockets. The weather had turned chilly but not cold enough for snow. Rarely did it snow for Christmas in this part of Japan, or so the young man at the front desk had said. "She's right in that respect. But honestly. . . I don't want to go out with Gus from Magical Transport. He's a complete pillock and does this weird snuffle thing with his nose when he drinks tea."

Terry burst out laughing and nudged her with his elbow as they turned down a street that Susan couldn't name. They'd gotten further and further from the hotel, but due to the fact that it _towered_ over the city, she figured it wouldn't be hard for him to get back there.

"Three times my parents were unquestioningly _convinced_ that I was going to settle down. Once with Mandy, who married a Slytherin from the year above us about . . . Oh I suppose it was about a year after we broke up. Once with Padma Patil, who left me for a job opportunity in New Delhi and then again with Luna," he mused. "Parents have this idea of how things will work. You'll meet the right girl, or bloke in your case, and BANG!" Terry clapped his hands together for emphasis. "Everything will fall into place and they'll be able to relax knowing that grand-sprogs are on the way."

And wasn't that the truth? Susan's mother was forever making little comments about how her sister already had three grandchildren and that she didn't expect to ever have any of her own. They'd had a large argument about that very topic the night before Susan had left for Japan.

"You don't know how right you are about that," said Susan, checking the traffic before they stepped out to cross the road quickly.

Terry gave her a goofy smile. "You should go home with a husband then. Shock them half to death. Might get your mother off your back."

Susan found herself laughing at that. "Oh and I suppose I should just walk up to some bloke here and say 'hey would you mind coming home to England with me so I can get my mother to stop pressing me to get married?' I don't even know how to say that in Japanese."

"Say it in English?"

"To who?"

He gave her a sidelong look and brushed the hair out of his eyes. 

"Oh you've got to be joking." Susan's mouth fell open. "You're mad. You're barking _mad_ , Ravenclaw."

"Or perhaps the idea is so unbelievably _perfect_ that you can't even really comprehend it just yet." He tugged her into the alcove of a shop front and stooped a bit to meet her eyes at more of her level. "It's a brilliant idea, Susan! Think about it. Your parents want you to find someone. My parents just want me to stick with someone. Ravenclaws certainly weren't working out for me. Dating long-term hasn't helped. Why not just plunge right in and forget about all the beginning bits? The interesting part could come in discovering everything afterward. It really couldn't hurt."

"You've had far too much to drink tonight. Where's all that Ravenclaw Logic I hear all about? Neither of us are Gryffindors. Jumping in feet first? We barely know each other, Terry." Susan's protest didn't sound at all convincing. Maybe because in an insane way, his argument sounded perfectly logical. Perhaps it was the climate or that they'd eaten bad sushi. 

"And where is it written that you have to know everything about the person you're marrying?"

"Well . . . You're just supposed to, aren't you? What about an engagement? What about our parents? What about all our friends? And where would we get married anyway?" Susan took a step backwards only to have her back press against the wall of the alcove in which they were standing and couldn't help but notice how impossibly close he was and this was all too strange and why would he just want to propose such a strange thing? "You're not thinking straight. You've not thought any of this through. You can't just ask someone you only just met to be your spouse. You just ca--"

He cut her off with a kiss, cupping her face between his hands, long slender fingers gently spread out on either side of her head. Susan felt her stomach leap up into her throat only to fall directly down to her toes before bouncing back up to somewhere below her ribs where it ought to be. Her heart was racing and his lips were slipping gently and yet possessively across hers. When he drew away there was this overwhelming sense of loss. Like she was completely missing something from her entire being.

She couldn't breathe.

She couldn't remember what she'd been saying.

"We haven't really 'only just met,' Susan. So. Why can't we?" he asked, blue eyes glinting at her.

"I. . . I don't. . . I um . . . I don't know," said Susan, her nose almost touching his. "Do that again. I think it answers a lot of questions."

And he did do it again, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her up, her feet dangling above the cement.

"This is mad," she murmured.

"Brilliantly mad."

***

In early November the government of Japan had passed legislation to allow for quick wedding chapels to appear in the city of Tokyo. This was in direct competition with the city of Las Vegas in the United States. Too many citizens were going abroad, spending their money in another country's economy and Japan wished to open that market to its own citizens as well as visiting tourists.

The trend hadn't taken off just yet; many chapels closed too early.

It was only through pure luck that Susan and Terry came across the Happy Luck Love Chapel (English translation). Decorated in garish pink and red, the chapel boasted signs that said it was the first twenty-four hour chapel in the country, specialising in theme weddings for all imaginations. The receptionist offered the full Klingon Package, complete with Blood Wine served warm and your very own commemorative communicator pins.

It was a whirlwind. The ring was simple and the receptionist notarised the licence. The officiant spoke broken English and the vows were strange. Susan wore winter boots with fur tops that fit over her trousers. Terry still had his long jacket on, his scarf flung over a front pew. It was madness and yet strangely apt. They were spinning in circles and had collided in a spectacularly wonderful twist of fate.

Twice Susan almost asked for it to stop. She didn't even know his middle name. She didn't know if he liked dogs or cats or how he took his tea. Was this really forever and ever?

Both times her thoughts were silenced by him simply smiling at her.

The ceremony, if one could call it that, ended and the witnesses threw handfuls of silk cherry blossoms into the air. Pink petals floated down around them. They caught in Susan's hair and landed on Terry's shoulders. He tugged her close and leaned down to whisper in her ear something that Susan couldn't quite hear over the roar of her blood thundering through her veins. He pressed a kiss to her lips.

***

Susan didn't remember how they got back to the hotel, or how they managed to get some clothes from her flat. Somewhere along the line she'd lost a sock and there might possibly be a pair of knickers hanging somewhere in the city. Summoning things without putting much thought into it would do that. She didn't remember over tipping the bellhop for no reason other than it was Christmas and she had some extra yen in her purse. She didn't remember making an elderly couple stare open-mouthed at what might have been a compromising display in the lift. 

Correction. Maybe she remembered _that_.

There were little things that she did notice though. Like how his hand held hers the whole way, fingers entwined. Like how he gently traced the column of her throat with his free hand. Like how he managed to get the door of his room open with her arms wrapped around his neck, her lips firmly attached to his. Like how they managed to manoeuvre themselves to the bed without letting go.

She was drunk on circumstance and surprise.

It was all dizzy and upside down and maybe this is what it was like to be a Gryffindor and maybe she was in love but that went against everything she'd ever thought about how it was supposed to go and she couldn't possibly be in love because people just didn't fall in love like this and it went against everything she'd ever dreamed and all those times of jumping around the back garden with a posy of flowers and a bed sheet wrapped around her head, but for not having been able to go home, this was turning out to be one of the best Christmases ever.

The thoughts ran like endless strings of conversation inside her head. No breaths or pauses between.

Stretching out on the large king size, Susan tucked an arm behind her head and looked at Terry who was levitating candles to float them about the room.

"How is this going to work tomorrow?" she asked quietly.

"We can think about that tomorrow," he answered and climbed onto the bed. 

She fell into silence and watched his fingertip slowly nudge a button on her shirt from its hole. Did she really just do this? Just fall into bed with him like this? Were they both barking mad for having done what they did?

Perhaps.

But the questions seemed to float away with the lazy circles that the soft pad of his finger made against the skin of her stomach. How long had it been since she'd felt that delicious anticipatory flutter in her chest? Far too long. More buttons followed, more circles were made and Susan's eyes closed when his mouth brushed against her ear.

"I remember you," he said, sparks seemed to dance around the room. Was that uncontrolled magic hers or his? Susan sucked in a breath as his lips travelled further down her neck. Oh she was slipping. "I remember you and your long plait and they way your shoulders hunched crookedly while you studied."

It teetered on the edge of fantasy and Susan reached to his waist to tug the light shirt up. Memories were tricky things and she did remember him from school too, but she couldn't recall if she'd ever studied him in detail. But she played along. In a way.

"You never said anything to me," she answered as they both gently peeled back the clothing on one another, exposing skin and secrets. 

"Shy," he mumbled, nudging the strap of her bra from her shoulder and kissing the skin beneath it.

Susan had to smile. "This from the boy who braved abuse from Carrows in seventh year to shout about Harry Potter in the Great Hall. Shy. I don't know if I believe that."

Terry raised his head and rested his chin on her shoulder, "Neither Carrows, nor Potter, were pretty girls. I had no reason to be shy and sweaty-palmed about them. Entirely different situation."

"Is it?"

"Definitely not as terrifying."

"Did you really think I was pretty?"

"Is the Ravenclaw password a skill testing question?"

Susan fluttered her fingertips over his bare chest. There were freckles scattered over his skin and she managed to brush her hands over each and every one. Raising her eyes, she met his gaze. "I really don't know," she said slowly. "Is it?"

Cupping his hand against her hip, Terry tugged her close. "Oh it is."

Susan had never thought of sex as something that could be more than just copulation. Her experience, of course, was fairly limited. The few encounters she'd had were less than impressive and she chalked it up to the whole act as being rather dull. All the romance books had described fireworks and goose pimples and toes curling. Nothing like that had ever happened to Susan.

Until now.

And it wasn't that he was touching her in a particularly erotic way, but it was his tenderness that was causing her breath to catch and her heart to pound. A soft kiss was placed against her collar bone and then her shoulder. He kissed each of her wrists and she could just barely feel the light graze of his teeth against the tendons. It went on like that. Soft caresses against places on her skin that weren't her breasts or between her legs. The closest he got was the inside of her knee and then down to her right ankle. And she _wanted_ him to touch her differently. She wanted to forget all of her thoughts and anything else beyond this room if only he'd slide his hand just a little bit higher.

There had to be a law against this kind of torture.

"Please," she whispered.

Slowly, oh so agonisingly slow, he worked his way back up her left side, pausing to press his lips against the inside of her knee and her hip once more. The edge of his lip brushed over the elastic waist of her knickers, which weren't entirely ugly but not the sexiest pair she owned. Susan heard him murmur something in Latin and found herself devoid of said article of clothing.

To be precise, she was devoid of _all_ remaining articles of clothing.

Oh he was _good_.

Time seemed to slow to a stop. He braced himself on his elbow, looking down at her and she looked back at him. A pin could have dropped and the sound would have reverberated around them. It was the moment when she thought there would be one last silent question. There had always been a question. Are you ready? Are you happy? Am I doing good? Do you like that? Susan could name all of them.

He surprised her.

"What do you want, Susan?" he dipped his head down and pressed a soft kiss to her nose. "Do you want me to love you?"

At that moment all of her preconceived notions, fears and anything else that might be holding her back or make her doubt completely vanished. She entirely threw everything to the wind and watched it scatter like the blossoms in the wind and the blossoms after the ceremony and instead of an explosion of sound, she could only describe it as a cacophony of colour. She could see herself liking this. And making it work. And she could see the forever in it all.

"Oh yes," she slid her arms around his neck.

His hands slid over all the spots that his lips had avoided and Susan trembled beneath them. She'd expected the pads of his fingers to be rough, but they weren't and when they traced circles around the outer edge of her nipples it was feather light and maddening. A small whimper caught in her throat and she stretched, arching her back enough to press up against his hands.

That whimper turned to a groan as his lips caught around the pebbled flesh, his hand palming against the other and she wanted more and more and before she could even ask his hands were sliding lower and lower and. . . _oh._ Susan's eyes flew open. How did he know just exactly what direction to twist his fingertips? It tipped her off balance and flipped everything on its side. His thumb drawing circles around a spot that no other lover had ever thought would make a difference. She couldn't see straight. She couldn't speak.

It made her writhe.

And gasp.

And hope for more and more and . . .

The sensation stopped. She was wound tighter than a spring and the sensation stopped. She was teetering on the very edge of her own bloody sanity and the sensation stopped. Susan wanted to protest because she had been almost there. 

Then Terry shifted, fitting himself between her thighs, hooking his hand under one of her knees to pull it up toward his waist and he was kissing her and pressing himself deeper and deeper until there was no telling where he ended and she began. And the most shocking thoughts flitted through her head. The loudest being that this felt like home.

Oh and then. Then he nestled his face against the crook of her neck, teeth grazing her skin and he began to move.

That changed everything.

Her head dropped back against the pillow, eyes pinched shut. It was all she could do to hold onto his shoulders and draw in shuddering breath after shuddering breath. Her hips moved against his, easily finding a rhythm that had been set forth in human subconsciousness since the beginning of time. And when he rolled over, pulling her with him, changing angles and positions considerably, she didn't miss a beat.

Clasping her hands in his, their fingers wove together tightly. She felt anchored to him and yet breaking to pieces and flying apart all at the same time.

Delicious pressure. Delicious friction. She couldn't stop. She didn't want to stop. Everything was climbing higher and aiming for something in the stratosphere. Opening her eyes, Susan tipped her head forward and looked down at him, brown eyes meeting his strikingly blue ones. Her hair tumbled down around either side of their faces in a messy curtain. The closer she leaned, the more exquisite the pressure became until she was reeling from it all.

She was lost.

And found.

Her forehead touched his and she gulped back a shout as shudders crawled up her spine toward the very top of her head. His hand pulled from hers and clamped down on her lower back, holding her there until the world stopped shaking for the both of them.

***  
_Christmas Day - 2007_

"Merry Christmas, my wife."

Susan looked down at the thin band of gold on her finger. She'd asked him the night before what they were going to do once tomorrow had come. It occurred to her then, looking out across the city, that there had to be a reason that they crossed paths in a country where neither one of them had anything in common with the citizens that surrounded them. She wasn't sure if she really believed in fate before all of this happened but it was the only answer that seemed to make sense.

A thought occurred to her.

"Were you really stranded here in Japan?"

"I gave my reservation to someone else," he answered, resting his cheek against the crown of her head. He continued before she could whirl about and ask him why. "There was something about you that compelled me to give it up. I'm going to figure out what it was one of these days." He turned her gently. "We've got a lifetime to figure that out, don't we?"

Susan peered up at him. A smile broke out on her face. Bless him for giving her the choice. "We certainly do."

***  
_April - 2015_

Ueno Park was in full bloom and there were hoards of people to view the blossoms on the trees. Away from the crowds, a young girl ran shrieking through the clouds of falling petals, spinning and twirling in what she had declared as magic you could see. Very tall for her age, the little girl didn't look like she was only six and a half years old. Often she was mistaken for eight or nine. Height and maturity would do that. She made sure not to venture far.

"I think I figured it out, Susan." Terry said, keeping his eyes on the little girl as she gathered up handfuls of petals and threw them in the air. "What compelled me to give up my reservation."

Susan looked up at her husband and adjusted the light blanket draped across her shoulder that concealed the baby in her arms. "It only took you seven years? I'm impressed."

"Seven years and three months, two daughters and many happy nights with a brilliant wife who can do the most amazing thing with her ton--"

"Charmer," said Susan with a grin, nudging her elbow against his ribs to cut him off. A high blush stained her cheeks. "Well. . . I'm all ears." She glanced over to the trees and called out. "Charlotte. Not so close to the water."

The older girl came running back with a fistful of flowers she'd pulled from a lower branch of one of the smaller trees, her loose trouser legs flapping in the breeze. She held them out happily, sticking the edge of her tongue through the space where one of her baby teeth used to be. Terry reached out and wrapped his arms around her.

"Daddy!" she squealed and kicked her legs when he lifted her off the ground. "You're squashing me!"

"I can squash you all I want because you're my little Christmas present." Terry kissed Charlotte's cheek and let her loose. She climbed up onto the bench and sprinkled the petals from the bunch of flowers in her hands over Susan's head.

"One day she's going to ask what that means and be utterly mortified that it was the day of her conception . . ." Susan plucked a pink blossom from the edge of the blanket over her shoulder and rubbed it between her fingertips. "So?" she prompted.

He gave her a goofy grin. "Yes . . . the reason. In all its simplicity, it's this: I was standing in the office wishing that I didn't have to go back to England and there you were wanting to go back and I almost gave _you_ my reservation. . . . Except I wanted you to stay and I wanted to have my own reason to stay. . . And know you."

"Love at first sight?" Susan smiled.

"I might have to call it that." He looked to his eldest tossing petals around. "It happened with both Charlotte and Madeline. Love from the moment I clapped eyes on them. It's only fitting that I had the same thing happen with my wife."

Susan chuckled. Seven years later and she'd come to believe in such things as these. Fate had dealt her such a hand that she was willing to bet the whole pot. Being with him, regardless of how they came together was like nothing she'd ever experienced before. Prior to that Christmas she was existing.

December of that year was when she had begun to live.


End file.
